Voto:
When we look at Bruce Springsteen, we witness a singular phenomenon. Usually, a fan appreciates when their idol invents something new, advancing the musical discourse. They feel proud when, in every album, the hero creates something fresh, contributing to the evolution of the music world. That’s fine. Bruce Springsteen's fans, realizing that their hero can no longer write decent songs like those on this album (not beautiful, just decent), have ended up... mythologizing the album's sound itself. It's true: the subsequent production is so inferior that it makes this insignificant pop rock sound gleam. I quote from the review: "a mix of Phil Spector's wall of sound." What is the "wall of sound"? What would that be? The sax playing under the guitar? An organ accompanying the bass line? Does rock renew itself? Hmm... the album has the typical sound of the mid-'70s, somewhat dirty, somewhat bluesy, the same as all (ALL!!!) the albums of that period: the Eagles, Eric Clapton, Elton John, Doobie Brothers, Al Stewart... exactly, what has the Boss renewed? Rock? But I don’t want to pound on this, and I’ll try to break a lance in favor of Bruce Springsteen as well. You know why this album is the best, Massimorf? Because the Boss didn’t yet have full control, and in the rehearsal room, the talented Clemmons (sax) and Britten (keyboards) still had the opportunity to enrich the tracks in some way. But those were different times: the Genesis of Peter Gabriel were at the top of the charts, and it wasn't necessary to churn out four-chord tunes at all costs to get on the radio. From "Darkness" onwards, the Boss would have total control, and the era of bland four-chord songs would begin (uhm... let’s save a couple of tracks: "The River," "You Can Look"). I also like "Born to Run" (even though I loathe Springsteen); perhaps it’s because my mind goes back to those years, or because for some strange alchemy I always link Springsteen from the good times to movies with De Niro and Al Pacino. Maybe it's because the characters in Bruce's songs remind me of the lost heroes played by Pacino. The truth is I listen to him; I’ve always listened to him and have always read his lyrics very carefully. I appreciate two albums of his: Nebraska and Born to Run. And I acknowledge that he’s written at least one great song: Thunder Road. Beautiful. But I've never let this so-called postmodern hero fool me (excuse the term): like all the big names in music, Springsteen also requires mythologizing to function properly. Those who love him have probably mythologized certain things in their minds: perhaps the vast American landscapes evoked by the lyrics of his "on the road" songs (Darlington County, The Promised Land, Racing in The Street); perhaps his songs manage to tap into the heartstrings previously touched by the literature Springsteen references (Kerouac) or films like "The Wild Angel" or "Easy Rider." Those who carry certain marks on their hearts can become potential fans of the Boss. And usually, these people are the most reasonable fans: they see in Springsteen an imperfect rocker who speaks their language, who feels the same emotions while reading a book or watching a movie, sharing a certain vision of the world and art. Surely, they are people I respect: Massimorf, you love an artist who personally leaves me indifferent, but you do so in a... "clean" way, akin to how I adore Bowie, De André, Bob Dylan, and Tom Waits. That is, driven by suggestion, by the images that music evokes in your mind. The songs become a gallery of paintings, images, narratives: beyond the technique, the virtuosity, the compositional ability, some artists manage to create this visceral, warm dimension, a direct dialogue between their spark of inspiration and the heart of the listener. There was a time when Bruce Springsteen also had this ability, and it dates back to this album and the previous one, "The Wild, The Innocent, The E-Street Shuffle." The music appears imperfect, wild, rag
